Storm Call
by BeMused
Summary: A storm is called. The fleeing company flees to an alternate universe.


There was a blinding flash of light. Before the eyes could adjust to the brightness, everything became dark.

Makoto Narumi blinked once. Twice. Natural light slowly returned and he was able to see again.

The weight against his triton had disappeared. The enemy he was previous engaging had simply vanished. What was standing before him now was a red fox which yelped in surprise at his sudden appearance before dashing away into the nearby bushes. He held his weapon in both hands, ever ready in a fighting stance. He drew in deep steady breaths while taking in his new surrounding. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Instead of the post-apocalyptic ruined metropolis, with its stale air and eerie silence, he was currently standing at the edge of a forrest. The morning (or was it evening?) sunlight, filtered through the slender trees, felt warm against his exposed skin. The air was fresh and fragrant. Leaves rustled to the gentle breeze. Not far in front was a shallow river dissecting through the overgrowth. There was even a honeybee buzzing pass his right ear.

For a moment he thought he was knocked unconscious and was now dreaming. But it felt too real to be a dream. Or, perhaps, he thought darkly, he was already dead, and this evergreen forrest was the place where dead people gather... where his dead teammates were. Just as he was about to pinch his cheek he heard a voice calling out from the opposite direction. He tensed, looking up ahead. His brows knotted to a frown. His grip on his triton tightened.

Figures emerged from the forrest. Figures in familiar dark uniforms.

He relaxed a little and lowered his weapon. 'Guys,' he sighed a relief. 'Are you guys alright?'

Shinoa was the first to appear. Kimizuki had an arm drapped over Yoichi's shoulders as they stumbled awkwardly out from the trees. Mitsuba followed closely behind the boys. The three were deep in conversation amongst themselves about spotting giant spiders 'as big as a horse.'

'I guess we are,' Shinoa nodded, looking back at her bickering teammates. She had her hands behind her back, the corner of her lips drawn up to her charateristic playful smile. Knowing that the young sergeant was trying to appear calm, he couldn't not notice the trepidation, and the exhaustion, seeping from her voice. 'We were at the top of a hill. We decided to follow the river downstream... and we found you here.'

'So you saw that flash of light as well.'

Again, she nodded. 'Something must have heppened during our escape. I am suspecting that light, whatever that is, holds the key to why we are here.'

'Solving that mystery is good and all but what I am more interested now is to know where the hell we are currently at and how the hell we are going to get back.' He paused. 'Where is that brat Yuichiro?' He winced inwardly at how needy he sounded. He had only come to know of this team for just a few hours but it had felt like a lifetime. He had to remind himself from showing his dependent, more vulnarable side, like he did occasionally with his deceased teammates, in front of these teenagers.

The last thing he remembered before being spirited away to this unknown part of the world was seeing that noob fell unconscious after defeating that mommoth demon of destruction. After witnessing that grand display of power, he should revise his opinion of that kid. That Yuichiro. In fact, he should be wary...

'Oh,' Shinoa shrugged. 'Mika is with him so you shouldn't worry.'

'Mika... who?' Makoto recalled seeing a vampire hanging around close. He made that educated guess based on the peculiar white uniform that blond hair youth was wearing. 'Mika is that vampire? You guys are friendly with a vampire?'

The other three had stopped their bickerings and was listening to the ongoing conversation. Kimizuki had chosen to lean against a tree to rest while pressing a hand over his wounded abdomen.

Shinoa laughed dryly. 'It's a complicated story.'

'This is getting ridiculus,' Makoto said exasparetely.

'Mika is on our side,' she said reassuringly. 'He is an ally.'

His mind was a jumble of thoughts. 'I know I shouldn't be surprised after whatever happened today.'

No sooner that he completed his sentence an arrow flew by, very close to his left arm. It struck harmlessly against a tree trunk.

All five pair of eyes were on that quivering arrow before turning to stare at the two struggling figures near the river. Out of the two, Mika was easily recognised. He had the second figure effortlessly overpowered and was holding him down on his stomach.

There was also the third figure, Makoto noticed, laying motionless face up not far away from them. The brat Yuichiro. Deep in his unnatural slumber. The others saw him as well as they moved quickly towards him, shielding him from whatever potential harm coming his way.

Makoto held his weapon ready, returning his attention to the stranger.

The stranger was dressed in primitive looking garments of fur and leather. His gaunt face was in decorative war paint. And framing that face was a mop of dark copper braided hair. He appeared to be in his mid thirties but it was hard to tell from the paint and grime covering his face. He was still clutching uselessly his hunting bow with his left hand. His leather arrow quiver had fallen off beside him.

Mika forced the stranger's right arm over his back and up towards his neck. 'You should start talking if you value your life.'

The man, groaning in pain, spoke slowly but clearly, in a foreign language.

Makoto felt goosebumps all over his body, while a shiver ran down his spine upon hearing those words.

They were not mere words but Thu'um, the ancient tongue of the Dragons long considered extinct from the rugged land of Skyrim.

The words uttered were 'Strun Bah Qo!'

Within seconds, the sky darkened with heavy columns of storm clouds and there was immediately a heavy downpour accompanied by a fierce thunderstorm directly above them. And before anyone of them could react to the rapid change in the weather they were again engulfed in a sudden blinding flash of light... 

[Somewhere IRL]

The youth sits straighter in his chair, his fingers flicking expertly at his PS controller, his eyes staring intently at the TV screen before him. Those strange NPCs have all but disappeared after his Dragonborn character shouted down a storm.

'Bloody bugs,' he sighs and saves the game before he goes on to explore a new Nordic tomb.


End file.
